


feverish

by awkwardspaceturtle (CastelloFlare)



Series: tiny sheiths [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Daycare, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-10 14:46:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7849288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CastelloFlare/pseuds/awkwardspaceturtle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You make me sick.”</p><p>This confession was not meant to be in any way hurtful or offensive at all – the four-year-old was just trying to be honest, and yet his limited vocabulary and lack of knowledge of euphemisms and metaphors conveyed the wrong message entirely. Thus was his confusion when Little Shiro started to cry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	feverish

**Author's Note:**

> for sheithweek day2: sickness/injury  
> not really one of my best writings (i'm pretty bummed how this turned out??? but i wanted to write it despite the stress from work looming uggh so here it is, but i might come back and edit it later???)  
> what is this even but i hope you like it

 

 

His tiny hands were clasped around the edges of the front of his oversized tunic, fingers fidgety and clammy, lips puckered into a pout and voluminous cheeks puffed out, eyes cast down and looking absently at Little Shiro’s tiny feet.

There it was again, this odd feeling of getting warm and jittery, his stomach making like a gymnast and doing somersaults inside his petite body. Little Keith felt like he could burst, like the bubbles they loved to play with.

Then, quietly:

“You make me sick.”

This confession was not meant to be in any way hurtful or offensive at all – the four-year-old was just trying to be honest, and yet his limited vocabulary and lack of knowledge of euphemisms and metaphors conveyed the wrong message entirely. Thus was his confusion when Little Shiro started to cry.

At first Little Shiro’s eyes had gone wild, cheeks gone a deep shade of strawberries, eyebrows furrowed and twitched, lips set in a rigid thin line, trembling, like the rest of his body. Then the tears came, and the six year-old just started sobbing, filling the daycare with a loud shrill howl.

Little Keith didn’t understand. All he knew was that seeing Little Shiro cry made him want to cry, too.

 

 

The Teachers didn’t know what to do – it was the first time the pair had ever had – what did they even call it? – a fight? A disagreement? A misunderstanding, perhaps? This pair of kids never did have any, but they were both evidently upset for some reason.

It took a while (and some cookies) for either of them to calm down, and when they did, Teacher Maddie let them sit beside each other on their little green chairs. When she asked them what was wrong, neither spoke, but Shiro looked like he was about to burst into tears again.

“Shiro?” Teacher Maddie tilted her head gently and addressed the older toddler. “What’s the matter?”

“… I think Kisu hates me,” Little Shiro mumbled between hiccups. He had yet to get Little Keith’s name right.

“Kisu doesn’t hate Shiro!” Little Keith cried and turned towards him almost immediately, startling the other two. “Kisu _never_ said he hates Shiro.”

Little Shiro stared at him, eyes still brimming with tears, his lower lip pulled up in a shaky pout. Snot had once again trickled down half of his round face, and Sister Maddie pulled some tissue out of a box to clean him up.

“What made you think Keith hates you, Shiro?” she asked. _Hate_ was strong word after all, especially for her little jellybeans (she loved to call them all her little _jellybeans_ because of their round bodies).

“H-he said,” Shiro began, sniffing. “He said I make him sick.”

Teacher Maddie gasped. “Keith, that wasn’t a very nice thing to say.”

“But,” the younger toddler stammered, tears pooling in his eyes once more. “It’s true! Kisu feels sick when Kisu’s with Shiro. Kisu’s stomach feels funny around Shiro, like when you go poopoo, but you don’t.”

A look of realization crosses Teacher Maddie’s face, but she doesn’t speak just yet. The innocence and purity of Little Keith’s real feelings stunned her to a shocked silence that filled her with warmth and a tinge of amusement. Inwardly she felt guilty at suddenly finding the whole situation adorable.

“Shiro also makes Kisu feel hot, especially Kisu’s face, like that time Benny had a fever and he was so warm,” the four year-old continued; everything was spilling inside of him now, probably, Teacher Maddie noted, his own desperate way of making Little Shiro believe he wasn’t hated. Then he clasped the front of his shirt, right over his tiny chest, and said, “Here also feels weird. It always goes ‘boom-boom’ around Shiro. Kisu’s scared of going ‘boom’ like that balloon went last week in Holly’s birthday.”

“I also don’t want Kisu to go ‘boom’,” Little Shiro said; his tears had stopped coming yet the worried expression never left his face. With tiny hands, he played with the fringes of his shirt, fidgeting, just like Keith. “But I don’t want to make you sick, either.”

“Maybe there’s a bitter candy to help Kisu not get sick?” Keith said, his eyebrows furrowed as well.

“Keith, you’re not sick,” Teacher Maddie finally spoke. Her hand fell gently on Keith’s tiny shoulder, cupping all the way up to his neck. “You’re perfectly fine.”

“But I feel hot just like Benny was—and the poopoo—”

“Feeling hot doesn’t always mean you’re sick. Just like your stomach feeling funny doesn’t always mean you need to go poopoo,” she smiled and took their tiny hands, placed them on top of each other. “How does this make you feel, Keith?”

Little Keith had gone quiet, his head hung low and his eyes locked in a staring contest with the floor. Beside him, Shiro looked expectantly, waiting for his answer.

Then, ever so quietly:

“Like a bubble – like I could burst.”

Shiro was about to pull his hand away, scared of literally detonating his friend, but Teacher Maddie said, “But you feel happy, don’t you?”

Little Keith wordlessly nodded vigorously.

“How about you, Shiro?”

Little Shiro’s tiny hand gave a little squeeze.

“It’s like the first time I went to the zoo.”

Teacher Maddie understood this – the mixed overwhelming emotions of pure excitement and elation, coupled with the inevitable grip of anxiety of meeting new and different animals. Maybe that’s how simple it was, this first innocent love, one that the young teacher had suddenly felt some yearning for, all because of this pair of fragile yet brave little younglings in front of her.

“Kisu, I’m sorry if I make you sick,” Shiro said. “But if I make you more happy than sick, is it okay to still play with you?”

Instead of replying, Little Keith sprang from his chair, and wound his tiny arms around a surprised Shiro. And Teacher Maddie knew, despite Keith’s wordless response, that things would be fine with these two.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!
> 
> EDIT: thank you all for your kind comments ;;; despite my initial dissatisfaction, this turned out pretty okay and well received. thank you so much for everyone's support. you are all the reason that writers find inspiration <3


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